Concupiscence
by Mr Mojo is Risin
Summary: After a saucy one-night stand, B seems to have a secret to share - is that Chuck Bass' baby she's carrying? How are Manhattan's most notorious couple going to handle parenthood? Blair & Chuck's journey through the ups and downs of family life.
1. Omens of Something More

**Title: **Meet the Basses  
**Pairings & Characters: **C/B and brief (implied) N/J, D/S. Brief OC appearances for the drama of it all and of course, A BABY BASS! :D  
**Rated: **T  
**Succeeded: **Multi-Part Story with a sequel coming soon...

**Don't like, **don't read.  
But hopefully you'll like! ;)

**

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**Chapter One**  
Omens of Something More

_'i pericoli davanti a noi'_

* * *

Chuck Bass wasn't one to believe in fairytales, magic or anything _hocus pocus_. It was all childhood argon to him, after all, he had always been insular about such things, predominantly narrow-minded when it came to something that wasn't scientifically proven. And once upon a time, he didn't ever have faith in love for there was no solid evidence that it existed. But she had changed everything. _Blair _had changed everything.

Karma had been a bitch for them. Always had, always will. But particularly now, with it always casting a curse upon there eternal love for one another, to the point where he believed that maybe they had nothing after all. But Blair always convinced him that fate was wrong. Until this time. It wasn't Heaven's turn to shine a light down on them, but _destiny _once again. And it was still as much as a bitch as it was before, except there was no Blair to reassure him about love. She was gone but her essence still lingered. Her scent still imprinted in the bed sheets. And the truth. That was here too.

* * *

_Two and A Half Months Earlier _

_

* * *

_

The day had been unusually quiet for Bass Industries. The workforce there had always been used to the chaotic pressure of one of New York most prominent businesses, so it came as a shock for everyone - even Chuck Bass who had become accustomed to lounging in his office, basking in the pleasant solitude of another peaceful day at work. It was quiet, even for him.

"Hey Bass," one of the administrative assistants, Robert Bowden, who had recently been hired, appeared at the doorway of the lavish bureau. "Great to see you, mate."Chuck eyed the worker, giving a distant nod in his direction. The manager for the Bass Industries' New York Headquarters had convinced Chuck that Bowden would be a good bloke to hire since he had done previous work for other eminent companies, but Chuck hadn't been impressed with his attitude so far. No one called him 'Bass' but Blair, his current girlfriend.

"You having a nice on, eh?" Bowden continued, asking about how his day had gone so far in some 'hippie' tongue or whatever all these kids thought were cool nowadays.

"It was pleasant enough," Chuck groused through gritted teeth, before adding, "until you came along.""It's bound to be better than my day, dude."

"And why would that be, my good man?" Chuck wondered if his bad temper shone through his civil words.

Bowden shrugged. "Stuff."Chuck took sudden interest - this could be quite a show. "But, why?"

The employee seemed to vacillate, edging nearer to the mahogany desk in which Chuck sat behind. He leaned against it, knocking over paper and pens as he did so.

_Klutz_, Chuck thought, grimacing at the sight of the gangly employee.

"Let you in on a secret, sir, shall I?" He lowered his voice. "You see, I sense this really weird stuff coming."

Chuck let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh but said no more, letting his gaze drop back onto the papers in front of him. Bills upon bills.

Clearly unfazed, Bowden continued. "Oh, yeah."

Chuck was only half-listening now, beginning to file the important work. "And what would that be, Bowden?"

"Like, omens. Creepy stuff, man. Right? It's so weird, like, all this crazy stuff happens and then I sense as if something bad is going to happen to, like, other people. It's mental, man."

Chuck smirked. "And who is this 'omen' going to blight this time?"

Bowden frowned. "Look's like you, mate. Soz man, but gotta dash. Good luck with your bad day of yours. Seems like the whole curse thing is affecting everyone and the business. I mean, am I right in thinking it's a hell of a lot quieter than usual, right?"

Chuck nodded half-heartedly, not than interested.

Bowden shrugged again. "Yeah, well, good luck anyway. Hopefully this omen of yours will dodge yer."

And then the trivial 'bloke' was off, leaving Chuck debating what the manager had seen in the frivolous assistant in the first place. Omen his ass. That was why he didn't believe in all that _supernatural _crap.

* * *

Ever since that _fateful _afternoon in which Bowden appeared at his office door, Chuck couldn't help but smirk when ever he saw the idle man, going about his work like he did every day, knocking into customers and employees but still oblivious. Maybe it was his naivety that had amused the manager. It certainly was a spectacle to see.

As Chuck left one of the PA offices, homeward bound, he couldn't deny reminiscing the words that Bowden had mentioned earlier. Omens. It was ridiculous. He was being stupid, wasting even his thoughts on such a matter.

His driver, who had been waiting in the private parking lot for the past fifteen minutes, greeted him courteously, opening the door for his superior as he ridiculed Bowden's ideas of _omens_. It still made him chuckle derisively, even as the limo raced down the Big Apple's lanes of traffic, crowded with vehicles. He could already taste the bitter taste of scotch in his mouth as the limo headed home.

Yes. He would quite enjoy a drink. If these 'omens' were anything true, he hoped they wouldn't develop into anything more than thirst and traffic. That was bad luck Chuck could tolerate. Just.

* * *

Ever since had walked into the penthouse, he could sense Blair's bad mood. She was angry with him. He could tell that from the tension that lingered as he tried to make small talk. He wasn't the most converse of all people but there was a point in all people's lives in which he had to make sacrifices.

"What's wrong, Waldorf?" he sighed in frustration, sipping the pungent beverage in which he nursed in his hand. Scotch could be saviour in times like this, but he knew what was wrong with her anyway. Something about him ignoring her and everything else around him until he had opened another bottle of scotch. Overreacting, he figured.

"Nothing, _Bass_," she snapped. "Why would you care anyway?"

Refusing to waver at Blair's accusing quips, he tried to keep his cool. "Why wouldn't I?""Don't play smart with me." She paced back and forth, as if trying to hold back the temptation to stomp off in a tantrum.

"Would you _please _sit down," he muttered. "You're making me motion sick."

Spinning round, Blair was clearly aghast. She stamped her foot on the ground, the sudden urge to slap him rushing over her. She hesitated for a moment, standing motionless in the middle of the penthouse living room. Just as Chuck was about to question her doings, she edged nearer to him, her aromatic breath was a fragranced wave.

_Here we go again_, she thought cynically, but her self-restraint was intoxicated with his smell. The taste of his mouth against hers. It was inevitable, as it went from stage to stage.

The passion of the same night couldn't be put into words.

And by midnight, Blair's petite body was sleeping in his arms, her breath a synchronized cadence. As they lay tangled up in the ivory white bed sheets, it dawned on Chuck that sex used to be a big deal to him. Virtually all episodes ended up as one-night stands, the woman was usually gone by dawn. But Blair was different, unlike all the others. She changed his whole view on life. His Little Black Book became grey (it couldn't ever be white because he was Chuck Bass and did people really expect him to be orthodox or whatever?) but it seemed different now, because of her. Every touch, every kiss. And for him; it felt better that way. A lot better.

* * *

_Present Day_

It had been two and a half months since Blair had left Chuck and that one-night stand behind. She had known they had been over for a long time for she had been dying along with their flame, but she had been clinging onto all the hope left, desperately trying to resurrect anything she could get her hands on. There just wasn't enough love to relight it, passion or not. And out of the window with Chuck and their relationship had been her period. It had been gone for a while now which instantly set off sirens in her head. God, she couldn't be pregnant. _No, don't think such extraneous thoughts_. She had drummed the mantra into her head, but she still wasn't convinced. Even the woman working behind the counter at the drugstore had eyed her strangely when she saw such a young girl buying a pregnancy test with a nervous expression marring her pretty face. For Christ sake, she was barely out of her teens! She had so much of a life ahead of her; it couldn't be destroyed by a baby.

No. She was doing it again. Expecting the worst. It was probably just reacting too excessively.

She wouldn't be staggered if the pregnancy test did turn out positive.

It had been at the back of Blair's mind for a long time now. With every pain that seared through her abdomen. With every pounding headache and stomach ache that never used to be so familiar. She couldn't bring herself to tell anyone; it was her little secret. She wasn't surprised though, when she saw the two pink lines on the pregnancy test she had bought earlier, one slightly fainter than the other. She _was _surprised though, when she began to comprehend that she was pregnant with Chuck Bass's baby and began to sink against the bathroom wall shaking, tears streaming down her face. She knew this all along, so why was it such a shock? Blair continued to shake and sob as she gazed at the cool, white skin of her stomach visible from under the blouse that had ridden up, already mentally counting down the days until New York could see the monster inside of her and the truth. The truth that she was pregnant. And Gossip Girl. Oh god, this would be a field-trip for the blogger bitch. She would bask in the news, telling the world and beyond. And then Chuck would find out and hate even more than he already did. Her mother would detest her and Jenny and Serena would sympathize but secretly note that Blair was a whore. She was ruined. All because of that _thing _in side of her. The tears kept coming, even as she calculated her plans. Her only choice left was an abortion, but Blair wasn't sure she could bring herself to kill it. Whatever deformities is emerged with, she knew that in a few years time she would hate herself for it. She was as much as a bitch as Gossip Girl, but she wasn't a murderer. But she wasn't stupid, so why didn't she see it coming? She should have seen that that_ stupid _one-night stand with Chuck would result in something even more imprudent than sex with him. Was this a goddamn destiny for Blair? To end up pregnant at twenty? It was a downfall; an omen that had plagued her mind for a long time now yet still concluded in an aftermath of devastation. She knew she couldn't stay here with Gossip Girl and Chuck and whoever else would find out about the pregnancy. She would have to find an escapism elsewhere.

* * *

**AN**: So, what did you think? I know, this is relatively dark compared to the rest of the story, for the rest is a family/drama/romance story. This is just the beginning when B finds out about the baby and everything. I guess this chapter's a higher T, while it isn't necessary to rate the others as high. Anyway, let me know what you think while I begin writing other chapters! I appreciate feedback and take it all into account! Oh, and the Italian (yeah, it's Italian!) at the beginning of the chapter is translated to the 'dangers before us'. I'm alright at Italian so it should be pretty accurate. Hopefully ;)

**REVIEWS KEEP ME MOTIVATED ;)**

_Slaying the Dreamer x_


	2. Paris Sweet Paris

**Chapter Two  
**Paris Sweet Paris

_'la ville de l'amour  
l'amour s'il vous plaît me trouver'_

* * *

It would be the second time Blair left New York for Paris because of Chuck Bass. She wasn't sure how long ago it was when she left with Serena for the first time; but then again, she wasn't sure about a lot of things now. The thought of being a mother horrified her; eliciting nightmares that plagued her sleepless night. She couldn't do this. Yet none the less, she was leaving New York for Paris in order to escape the pressure of New York, Gossip Girl and Chuck finding out he was about to be a father.

So here she was, at Manhattan Regional Airport, about to board a plane that would take her to France once more. The ghost of the Blair before, the Blair that was once about to leave for Paris with Serena just a few years ago still haunted her as she walked the linoleum floors, passport in hand.

Except it seemed different this time; as if the Manhattan civic around her were staring at her. When was she suddenly such a pariah? Pregnancy was a normal part of life, right?

_Not if it's Chuck Bass's baby, it isn't_, a grating voice dictated at the back of her mind. She dug her fingernails into the sweaty palms of her hand, willing the elevator doors to open faster. The crowds around her were beginning to grow, along with the intensity of the stares. Her toned abdomen suddenly seemed to swell twice the size, her head burning with the unremitting gazes of those around her. Hallucinating. Or an emotional break down; probably being both. It was true - she really didn't know anything anymore. Just as the lift doors swung open, revealing an empty elevator, a voice rang out from behind her. It took a moment for her to realize the voice was calling her name.

"Blair?" the familiar voice spoke out from. She turned around on her heel and there stood a shell-shocked blonde. Jenny Humphrey.

"Jenny? What are you doing here?" Blair blurted out the questions, her voice, flustered by the ordeal, suddenly becoming hard to find.

"Long story short, I was supposed to meet Nate after he got back from some _really _dull political meeting in Ontario, or I think it's politics anyway. Well, whatever the crap is he's doing nowadays. Then it turns out that he's called back, this time to Asia. I mean, why the hell are the Japanese wanting to talk to some American politician for? I don't know! So I trek all the way to the frigging airport for him to call me, all remorseful and stuff, saying he's got to go to Japan all the way from goddamn Canada. I mean, sure, they're cool enough people, but I'm _so _sick of march all the way to this stupid Regional Airport or whatever it's called, just for him to ring and apologize…"

Blair had zoned out of the elevator talk, only half-listening. Even as a good friend of hers, she really wasn't interested in Nate's political life story coming from his irate girlfriend. She had bigger issues.

"Blair? B? Earth to Blair Waldorf!" Jenny snapped her out of her trance; Blair was still mulling over how to escape New York (and Jenny) without her little enigma being figured. "Are you okay?"

Blair looked up neglectfully and smiled; her attempt feeble.

"Of course I am, J. What did you think? Why would I not be okay?" She laughed nervously; ironic really. She had stammered through it all - an instant giveaway sign to Jenny who eyed her apprehensively. The blonde girl wasn't convinced, proven by the fact that she continued distressing Blair with more queries.

"Where are you going anyway?" she probed. "I know you left Chuck ages ago, but why are you disappearing out of the blue so suddenly?"

The mention of Chuck's same instantly sent her into a uneasy reverie of thoughts about the pregnancy scenario. She _really _couldn't do this.

"Uh…"

Damn. She had evidently been caught red-handed, Jenny's prying eyes narrowing with suspicion as every minute went by.

_Improvise Blair_, she thought to herself callously. _Improvise. _

"To see my mom," she blurted out impulsively.

"B, your mom lives in New York? Why the hell would you need to visit your mom via plane?"

"I mean, to see my dad. Yeah, that's w-what I…uh…meant." _Not _compelling.

"Oh really?" Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Are you _sure_?"It was hardly a question because Jenny was far from stupid; hardly the dumb blonde typecast she was often labelled as. Prejudiced pricks; they could have warned her beforehand that she wasn't so easy to convince.

"Yeah…" Blair tailed off.

"I don't believe you, B."Blair sighed. "Okay, I'm not."

"Where _are _you going then?"

She had to give in; there was no use in hiding it. Jenny was only going to find out sooner or later. "I'm going to Paris, J, but whatever you do, _do not _tell Chuck. I'm begging you. Blair Waldorf is _begging _you not to tell him.""Why?" Jenny demanded, sceptical. "Why shouldn't I tell him, B?""Jenny, you're my friend!""And he's my stepbrother! He's your true love, Blair, why doesn't he deserve to know?"

Blair wavered, her mind blank.

"It doesn't matter."

As she turned to leave, the younger blonde gripped her shoulder, forcing her to stand still.

"Blair, tell me.""No."

"B…""Jenny, I can't." There was the pleading again."Why not?" The girl was resolute, Blair had to give her credit for it. It was impressive.

"Because it's…clandestine."Jenny's gaze dropped to Blair stomach as she intuitively and thoughtlessly guarded it, as if she was protecting it from Jenny's quips and stipulates. _Protecting _it. But before it dawned on her that she was protecting her unborn child, _she _realized that Jenny had realized. Damn. She endeavoured in trying to pull it off as if she was smoothing down the shirt that had ridden up in the chaotic push of tourists and New Yorkers leaving and arriving from their planes. But a sceptical, unconvinced Jenny had guessed it already.

"No," Jenny sighed. "Blair, tell me it isn't true."And all Blair could do was burst into tears like that, cry as sunk against Jenny in the lackadaisical hug Jenny had offered who was still shaking her head in disbelief. Blair didn't care though; she should let the tears fall like they had when she first discovered she was pregnant in the bathroom.

She truly didn't care about anything anymore.

* * *

_Bass Residence_

"Did you know, Bass?"

Chuck jumped in astonishment at the sound of the penthouse door being slammed open and an ardent, furious blonde stalking in, either forgetting or ignoring the mannerism of knocking on a door.

"Have you ever heard of knocking, Humphrey?" he grumbled to his company, Jenny Humphrey, while sipping scotch from the bottle in his hand.

"Shut up," Jenny seethed, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "I _asked _you a question."

"And would you be so amiable as to repeat it again?" he griped mordantly.

She emphasized her next words sullenly; every syllable spoken profoundly. "_Did you know_?"Just three words sounded like venom. "About what, sis?"

Now for Round Two. Even more of an amused Chuck and an irritated Jenny. Though he was still inquisitive about what his stepsister was banging on about.

"You did know, didn't you?"

The words were no longer laced with frustration and vehemence, but dejection on Blair's behalf.

_Damn Chuck Bass_, she thought acrimoniously. Her stepbrother really thought he was something didn't he?

Chuck's smirk began to fade as he noted Jenny's sudden change in attitude. Maybe this was something deserving of his time.

"What is it, Humphrey?"Jenny briefly forgot about that day's events, perplexed by Chuck's evident concern. Since when did Chuck Bass _care_? Maybe she was more of a stereotype than she originally thought. He did have a soft heart when it came to some - particularly Blair, whether they were together or not.

She wondered how he would take the news. She worried about how he would take the news.

"About…Blair," her voice faded as her confidence diminished. She was scared for Blair; she knew the brunette couldn't raise a baby on her smirk was long gone and his anxiety was so clear it was like he had the words written on his forehead. This was the first time she was able to read Chuck like a book.

_He must still love her_.

She was glad - for Blair and Chuck. They were perfect, even with their flaws. They needed each other; Blair predominantly.

"Jenny…" He snapped her out of her reverie.

"Yeah? Oh, Blair…uh…The thing is…she didn't want me to tell you this. I'm doing it on her behalf as well as yours Chuck-"

"Just get on with it," his tone wasn't stark. He just wanted to know what had happened to _his _took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

"Blair's pregnant, Chuck."

Chuck just sat there in silence, staggered. No; he was hallucinating. Jenny and her 'news' weren't really there. Were they?

"M-mine?" he spluttered, ignoring the bottle of scotch as it fell to the floor from his kick in the teeth, the glass splintering as it was submerged in a sea of deep amber.

Jenny nodded slowly, willing Chuck to not hate Blair for it. It wasn't her fault. It was both of theirs.

The sound of the clock hands ticking in the background was a cadence that suddenly felt like strident sirens in his head. Jenny just stood there, watching him carefully as a he sat motionless.

"I'm sorry, Chuck but I had to tell you-"

"Just go, Jenny."

She sighed again, nodding hastily and heading towards the apartment's hallway door. Just as she was about to close it against the mahogany frame, he stopped her/"Where is she?"

"Blair? She's gone, Chuck."

"Where is she, Jenny?" his words seemed fierce, spiteful, demanding. "Where?"

Jenny vacillated. "Gone to Paris. Same place as before, Chuck. Go find her; she needs you."She gave him a last look before closing the door and her stepbrother was left in the solitude of his penthouse all over again, watching the shattered glass as if it was a lifeline.

Suddenly he felt like going to Paris.

* * *

**AN: **So many reviews in just one chapter? That's such an amazing shock for me! Thank you _so _much everyone who has taken the time to review, criticized constructively, rated or read because it's you that keep me inspired. Do you like the update? Let me know! As for questions, let me know in a review or message. I'll try and get round to answering them. **BWyn, **you'll have to find out later in the story as to why Blair left so suddenly, but the last straw was mentioned in Chapter One (Chuck's drinking habit). There's more to it though. **Ziah**, the AU elements of the story are very minor. There's no radical changes whatsoever. A negligible change for example is Jenny and Blair being friends rather than enemies and some of the relationships and couples differ to the TV show storylines. Think Jenny and Nate, they're together. I love 'em! ;) But then again, nothing big will alter. If you have anymore questions PM me or let me know in a review, I'll try and answer them.

Oh, and as for all of you asking whether Chuck is going to be there for Blair and the baby, I think you know the answer already! ;)  
He may be the devil in disguise, but he's got a soft heart really, especially when it comes to B! :D  
And in case you're curious, the French at the beginning of the chapter is translated to 'the city of love' being Paris, but that's probably pretty obvious :)

OH AND MOST IMPORTANTLY: JENNY AND CHUCK NEVER SLEPT TOGETHER. THEY'RE NOTHING MORE THAN STEP-STEP-SIBLINGS (because technically they're not step-siblings, I guess.)

**REVIEWS KEEP ME MOTIVATED! KEEP 'EM COMING! ;)**

_Slaying the Dreamer x_


	3. The Seether's Blood

**Chapter Three  
**The Seether's Blood

'_s'il vous plaît revenir à moi'_

_

* * *

_

It had been a long day for Blair, the preponderance of it taken up by the constant worry of becoming a mother. A single mother at that, but at least Paris was safer than New York. More secure, even without Chuck. Having been in Paris for only three days, she could already testify that she and the baby were better here. For now at least.

And as much as she wished she could deny it, she was struggling without him; without Chuck. It wasn't right - she just wasn't herself without him on her arm. At least Gossip Girl was gone anyway. For now. She often found herself ambling closer and closer to the airport or the train station; her only ticket home. Back to New York. Back to Chuck. But then she remembered the bitchy blogger and how she would bask in the reprehensible news of Blair's pregnancy, labelling her everything malicious under the sun. Suddenly, she found the temptation to head home to Chuck easier to withstand, even if it did feel like she was pouring salt on the already fresh and unsullied wounds. It hurt, but she had to resist.

That was the cadence that she had drummed into her mind, the mantra that had forced her to play the role of a façade, pretending she didn't love him anymore. That was a lie; it was all a lie.

Blair spent most of her time in the pictorial green near the French hôtel she had been staying at for the past seventy two hours. It provided some console and distraction in which she would forget reality and all its tainted gifts. Occasionally, she would pretend Chuck was there with her to. God, she was hallucinating now. She really needed psychoanalysis.

"_Mademoiselle, êtes-vous bien_?" a voice spoke out from behind her, evidently belonging to that of a gallic. She turned round to see a man, not much older than herself, with a head of dark hair and profound blue eyes, concern marring his fetching face. Regardless of having learnt French years ago, she was in no state or mood to translate his words into English. She'd just have to settle with direct stupidity.

"I'm sorry, I don't speak French," she declared.

"Oh, my amnesty," his English was impressive, his accent furthermore. "But are you alright? You look rather lost?"

"I'm fine," Blair reassured, offering him a simple smile. She wasn't in the mood to mingle, despite having been Queen B just over two years ago.

"Are your sure?" the Frenchman pried, not convinced in which Blair replied with a brash nod.

"_Amende_, my name is Alexandre Lefevrê Cheválier," he continued. "It is so very nice to meet you." His words were soothing, a change from the disarray that she had grown so familiar with.

"It's nice to meet you Alexandre." She smiled genuinely, even thought the name was foreign and unfamiliar on her tongue; alien.

"And if _your _name is anything as pretty as your face, then I would surely like to know it." He made pickup lines sound romantic. Blair couldn't possibly refute that; maybe it was something to do with the French charm or the desirable accent.

"Blair. Blair Waldorf," She coloured slightly. It was unusual; all her life (particularly at Constance) she had been complimented for her appearance, but as soon as he said such a thing, she felt herself flush with slight embarrassment.

"What a beautiful name. Scottish, I believe?"

"Huh?" Blair had only been half-listening, somewhat distracted by his charm. Or maybe her worry - she didn't know. "Scottish?"

"In origin, yes?"

"Oh," Blair blushed again, just slightly. "I don't know, actually."

"Are you from Scotland?" he enquired.

Blair rolled her eyes, stating sarcastically; "Do I sound Scottish?"

Alexandre laughed lightly, not at all fazed. "My apologies, mademoiselle. Would you maybe like me to buy you a drink to make up for it? There is a bar nearby, at the _L'Hôtel Royale_."

"That's satirical. I'm staying there right now." Blair was sincerely surprised.

"Oh yes, beautiful drinks, beautiful foods. Do you not have a house in Paris, though? Why would you be on holiday alone?"

Blair wavered; she considered telling him the truth. He seemed genuinely worried about her wellbeing, so unlike Chuck or at least his persona from when she knew him, but Blair settled with a little white lie instead.

"No," her falsehood was smooth, and Alexandre didn't seem to notice it. "I'm visiting family and friends in the south of France and decided to stop in Paris for the interim. I'm from America but have some relatives over here. So yeah, just…visiting."

"But for how long?"Blair dithered again. "A while."

"Then maybe we could spend some more time together further on," the Frenchman suggested to which Blair didn't not reply. "But for now, to the bar?"

She hesitated for two reasons to begin with. First, she was positive that it was illegal to consume a great deal of alcohol while pregnant and secondly, she wasn't looking to make any male friends any time soon. They'd only let her down, just like Chuck had done.

But then there was that grating voice at the back of her mind that told her that not all men were like Chuck. Not all of them were alcohol-orientated and ignorant like the father of her baby. If she could take it all back, she would. _Maybe _she could use a friend as a distraction and _maybe _some water would suffice instead of alcohol. It was a rushed relationship, but she agreed.

"To the bar."

* * *

Chuck hadn't been in Paris for long and the hindrance of finding Blair had already began to emerge.

He had followed the directions and instructions given to him by Jenny and was now in Blair's supposed location, _L'Hôtel Royale _in the city of Paris, but there was no auburn brunette in sight.

Having visited the hotel's bar twice that day, he decided he would make it a third as he searched his pockets for euros. He could do with a drink; his taste buds had been parched of alcohol for the past four hours as he had searched the hotel and its surrounding areas for a pale, perfect face and compassionate brown eyes. It was the last place he expected to see her there though; the hotel bar. She was pregnant, for crying out loud. And with another man.

Blair, picture perfect as ever, was sat beside another a stranger held a tankard between his fists, and, according to the grapevine, was propelling her to laughter by the gallic's remarks.

Chuck felt himself seething at the sight of it. Here he was, travelling all the way to Paris for Blair, to find her flirting with a hebetude she had picked off the streets of France. Did he even know her name? Even know she was pregnant with someone else's child? As the minutes passed, Chuck felt himself getting more and more incensed at their everlasting smiles and laughter. If he had had Nate's fists he would have clocked the imbecile then and there and enjoyed it but he didn't and therefore, he had to stand there, basking in his fury. He wasn't the one to fight; he had better control of his cool than Nate did, but this was different. This was his true love with another man. There were some exceptions in life.

Advancing towards the bar somewhat half-heartedly, he purposely passed Blair and her French escort and much to his irritation, she still seemed to be unaware of his presence.

"Give me anything," he groused to the bartender, who raised an eyebrow. "Anything."

The barkeep complied, reaching for a green hued bottle and then for a stein, but Chuck gestured for the bottle and nothing else.

Slowly, he took the alcohol to his lips, taking a sip of the bitter liquid that didn't seem to burn a trail down his throat as much as his usual scotch. Too mild for his tastes, he thought as he watched for the bartender to leave and serve the next customer. Once the waiter had vanished from sight, Chuck withdrew the bottle and smashed it onto the counter top, the bar plunging into silence as the drinkers looked up in astonishment. Including Blair. Eyes bore into his as the sound of broken glass rang through the hotel's pub. But anyone else's attention didn't matter.

Just to know she knew that he was there was a comfort; the sound of her dulcet tones nearby even more so. Just one word reassured him that she was there.

"Chuck."

* * *

"Do you know that man, Blair?" the French douchebag enquired. Chuck felt sick to the stomach. Maybe he did know Blair's name after all.

"Yes," Blair hesitated. "He's…a friend…from America."

"A friend, Blair?" Chuck drawled, advancing towards the pair, his fury diminishing as he put on an aloof façade. "Really?"

Blair didn't reply, both of them oblivious to the scene the French bar was enjoying.

"Is this man upsetting you, Blair?" Blair's company enquired.

"Shut the hell up, jackass," Chuck response was brash; brazen. Not like his typical reaction to an event of the such.

"Chuck! He's just being a friend."

"A friend? A friend like me because our history was nothing more than friendship was it?" he spoke bitterly, his voice mocking. "Friends with benefits."

"Chuck, stop it, please," Blair continued to implore, her voice just an octave lower than a scream.

"I'll make him leave." Frenchie interrupted.

"Oh, so you're little pal's all good samatirian now, is he? Your knight on a steed? Really, Blair. Who knew you were so underclass, going around and picking the first man you see off the French alleyways."

Blair was taken aback, not even stopping Alexandre as he leapt from his seat at the counter. The Frenchman abruptly smashed his fist against Chuck's face, rendering him to dizziness. The rest seemed to go in slow-motion.

He felt himself fall to the floor, the gasps of the spectators a distant hum in the backdrop of the bar. The females squealed in horror, the bartender hurrying towards the two with the objective of separating them in mind. Glass shattered and pain seared through Chuck's left side of the face and warm fluid trickled down the skin. Blood. He ignored it.

"Alexandre!" Blair called out to the cretin, her voice beseeching. "Don't; stop it, please!"

Chuck couldn't resist the temptation to throw a punch at the French imbecile, or at least try. He was sort of impressed at his fighting skills; didn't match Nate's but it was a start.

As Alexandre directed a second hit at Chuck's jaw, narrowly missing, he felt a pair of calloused hands grip his collar, drawing a distance between the two.

The bartender, who had untangled them both from their brawl, began roaring something in French, in which Chuck could not be bothered to interpret as he stood there, dusting himself off. Alexandre retorted, once more in foreign tongue.

But it didn't matter, because when Chuck felt the palms of Blair's supple hands press again his arm in sympathy, he felt reassured. The blood that trickled down from just below his temple slowed, the dull ache in his head and jaw had stultified and he briefly forgot everything. He forgot about where they were and why they were there. He felt reassured because, for now, he had been reunited with _his _Blair.

* * *

**A/N**: So, we have some things to clear up. Okay, so a lot of you want to know whether Chuck slept with Jenny and the answer is hell no! ;) The S3 finale storyline sucked BAD and I can't stand a romantic relationship between the two - I just see them as step-step-siblings, if you get me! ;)  
Also I can say that Jenny only really features in the start; Chuck had to find out about B's baby someway or another, so once they're in Paris, none of the other characters will feature really (barring any implications here and there). If you don't like Jenny, don't read the chapter. Same goes for any other characters/pairings. As for Serena, I'll _try _and include her at some point in the storyline but personally, I find it really hard to write her character so I don't tend to focus much on her. I prefer Serena/Dan, rather than Serena/Nate, too. Just my opinion, okay? Anyway, the rest of the story is just Chuck and Blair, alone in Paris, with a few obsticles *.coughcough* in the way. Oh, and according to Wikipedia, Blair is a name of Scottish origins. If it's wrong, then it's wrong. It doesn't matter, really. I guess it wasn't that necessary to add in, but whatever! ;)

Let me know what you think, I hope the action is adequate.  
**Reviews keep me motivated to continue! They are inspirations for me.**

_Slaying the Dreamer x _


	4. What We Know & What We Don't

**Chapter Four  
**What We Know and What We Don't

_'ciò che sappiamo e ciò che non'_

* * *

They had spent the first few hours since the fight with Alexandre in silence, letting Blair wash and clean his open wounds rather than the hotel's medics, her hands supple and silky against his burning skin. He concentrated on the focal point in the shape of an end table as she washed his skin till it was free of sangria hued blood that had dried against his face long ago.

"Chuck, what _are _you doing here?" she questioned lightly as she daubed the cut across his forehead, watching him flinch as the basalt fibre was stroked across the length of the wound.

"I found out. About…it."

Blair responded with a heavy sigh, briefly glancing down at her abdomen. It was still as shapely and toned as ever, concealed with Prada attire and designer adornments. No sign of a baby bump, whatsoever.

"Oh."

_She _continued to dab the incisions in silence. _He _continued to cringe at the smarting that seared through the cuts and bruises. Maybe he'd leave the fighting to Nate in the future; it simply wasn't his domain.

"Have you got anywhere to stay?" Blair spoke again, watching Chuck as he mentally chided himself for nothing thinking about that. His departure had been impulsive; find Blair and bring her home had been his motto. He didn't think about scraps and stays, arguments and Alexandre's, Paris and its perils.

"No."

"Oh," her words were open-ended, he noted, as she began work on the bruise on his jaw. "Do you want to stay here?"

Chuck was never the one who had to be invited to stay. He had houses all over, there had never been the need. He didn't respond.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"You know me too well, Waldorf, but…Ow, goddamn it!" he gestured to the daubing of his scars. "Will you _stop _doing that?"

Blair could only laugh. Laugh genuinely.

* * *

"Good morning, Chuck," Blair's dulcet tones made him jump as she emerged at the kitchenette's doorway. Chuck was surprised. Even after waking from a night's sleep, there wasn't a hair out of place and she literally glowed without the mask of slap. He liked her like that; just like when they had woken up together all those mornings ago. All those years ago. When they were still together.

"Good morning, Waldorf," he drawled. "Did you sleep well?"

She didn't respond until she had sat down opposite him at the kitchenette's mahogany table.

"Not really, no."

"And why would that be?"

"I just can't stop thinking about…everything."

Chuck's sarcastic remarks died down when he took in her dejected mood. "And what's that _everything_…"

"You know, Chuck. The baby. How are we going to handle being parents."

"_We_? I thought you were with that asshole, Alexandre."

"Alexandre? What? No! He's just a friend, Chuck!"

"Good. I can't stand that bastard's hands all over you."

Blair didn't a double take. "Since when did he have his hands all over me? And since _when _did you care? About him...and me?"

"We'll talk about that later. What were you on about before," he changed the topic smoothly, dictating; "Something to do with 'being a parent'?"

"Yes," Blair settled her hands on her lap, glancing down at the floor.

"Blair, don't get mad at me for suggesting this, but what about an abortion?"

"An abortion?" she cried, incredulous. The literal reaction Chuck had been expecting. "I am not getting an abortion! Ever! I know I don't have the most motherly conduct; I'm hardly the maternal type, but I am not getting an abortion. I don't want to go through with this, I don't want to be a mother, but I'm not killing it. I'm not a murderer, Chuck!"

Chuck sighed, sceptical of his initial thought. Of course not. When it came down to it, he didn't want to kill the thing. _He _wasn't a murderer, either.

"Why did you leave, Blair?" he countered heavily, changing the subject. She didn't reply straight away, leaving a lingering silence lynching their deep and profound conversation.

"Chuck, I…" she tailed off, as if she didn't know the answer herself. Her words were stammered. "I…I didn't want you to know, C-Chuck. I knew, and I didn't know how you would take it."

"You should have told me." Chuck was hardly the benevolent type, so he was slightly taken aback that he could muster such integrity in his words. Blair really did play an important role in his life.

"I know, Chuck," her voice was nothing more than a feeble whisper. The room was plunged into silence once more, but it was hardly as gauche as before. She gazed at him longingly. Instinctively, he leant in, his lips fusing together with hers ever so tenderly. Slowly, the kiss spawned more fervour, as Chuck's hands began to know in Blair's russet locks, her touch all over his body. As Chuck began to kiss her neck, settling his mouth just below her ear and placating her racing pulse with his lips, a sudden wave of nausea hit Blair. Morning sickness. Lost and inebriated in one another, Chuck didn't even notice that her dainty hands had begun to push against his chest, trying to set a distance between the two of them.

"Chuck," she muttered against his mouth, yet he still appeared oblivious. Biting down on his lip as hard as she could, she watched him guiltily as he recoiled."What the hell was that for, Blair?" He rubbed his lip, both irritation and concern marring his callous words. Blair smirked; half amused, half sympathetic, but as queasiness washed over her again. She hurried to the en suite, slamming the mahogany door shut on her way.

"Blair. Are you all right?" he placed the palm of his hand on the wall, cringing at the rather too vivid sound effects from behind the closed door. Morning sickness; ugh, his bad mood was back. How could he forget? That Blair's pregnancy wasn't just an unpleasantly vivid nightmare. He wasn't ready to be a father, and she wasn't ready to be a mother. It was as simple as that.

"I forgot," she stated surreptitiously, appearing at the bathroom door, eyes dark. "I forgot about that _thing, _inside of me. How could I forget, Chuck?" Her question was rhetorical.

They were definitely not ready for parenthood.

She glanced at the ground bitterly, Chuck never taking his eyes off her petite, refined poise. Out of the blue, a loud knock ricocheted from the doorway, shattering the silence and bringing both out of their dreamlike reveries.

Blair smiled half-heartedly at him, as if it wasn't quite genuine, but not before gliding elegantly towards the suite's entrance, opening the softwood door. Her acerbic smile diminished quickly and evidently. Chuck knew who was out there before either spoke.

The smile died on her lips, as did her light-hearted tone.

"Alexandre."

* * *

**A/N: **I _know _it's short but I really wanted to update soon, and I had to find a way to add the drama coming soon. So I grovel for your forgiveness - ;) And Alexandre? What could he be doing here? The drama ensues! Thanks for the reviews - they truly keep me inspired! Length-wise, I like to keep them short 'n' sweet. Therefore, I get to update more regularly, rather than posting it in one big load hardly ever. Chapter Five coming soon. Rated T for language.

**Reviews keep me motivated - Keep 'em coming! ;)**

_Slaying the Dreamer x_


	5. Among the Pigeons

**Chapter Five  
**Among the Pigeons

私は検索

* * *

"Alexandre," Blair addressed the new arrival, falsely amicable. "How nice it is to see you."

She eyed Chuck who stood gawping beside the en suite door, his face flushed with budding anger. Blair scowled, gesturing for him to hide as the Gallic began speaking, prose laced with his tantalizing French accent. He walked into the hotel room without the need of an invitation.

"Blair, I have come to see you…after the incident in the bar last night."

She turned back to look at the Frenchman. "Oh…yes. That. What about it?"

"I do believe you are alone, am I right?" he pried, peering into the spacious suite. Had he caught sight of Chuck?

"Oh…um…yes," she turned her head to glare at Chuck who slowly but surely closed the door behind him, the lock ricocheting out into the lounge, the tension emerging.

"What was that?" Alexandre enquired, jumping slightly at the sound of the bathroom lock clicking into place. "Are you sure you're alone, mademoiselle?"

Blair hesitated bashfully. For a split second, she was positive they had been caught red-handed.

"I'm sure."

Alexandre raised an eyebrow, but nonetheless, sauntered further into the drawing room. His showy sashaying seemed to change Blair's view on him almost completely.

"What was it you needed?" she questioned, perching on the end of the chaise lounge that was positioned beside the integral bathroom. She momentarily skimmed the length of the hallway, glimpsing at the bathroom's door. No sound came from behind. Thank god Chuck had taken the hint; she didn't want another rerun of last night.

"I want to see how you were," he chided lightly. "After the…fist altercation with your old friend."

Blair didn't respond, just gritting her teeth in an attempt to vent her swelling anger. She wanted to see how Alexandre panned the conversation out.

"Is he…?"

"A friend," she finished the line for him. "Of course."

_Damn_. Too quick a witticism to pull off.

"Good." She followed him warily as he wandered the living room, as if searching for hints that she wasn't alone. He settled himself beside the chaise lounge she had just been sat on. The one next to the bathroom Chuck was hiding in. It was as if he sensed his presence already.

"I was thinking," he drawled heavily, his tone was a French reminder of Chuck's. That brought back some memoirs of their life back in New York City.

Alexandre sniffed, breaking Blair's train of thoughts. He was arrogant, Blair comprehended as she watched him gaze around the room somewhat pretentiously.

"I was wondering, maybe you would like to visit _Champ de Mars_. It's a beautiful garden, for a beautiful lady. Quite near, actually."

Blair could hear a stifled growl coming from the backdrop of the hotel suite, subdued by the door of the integral bathroom.

"Chuck," she muttered under her breath heavily.

"What is that you said, Blair?" Alexandre enquired curiously. "It sounded rather too blaspheme for a lady."

Blair rolled her eyes. She knew what he meant.

"I didn't curse, Alexandre. But really, it's nothing."

Her reply was ad hoc. "Do you mind if I…go to the…uh…bathroom quickly."

"Not at all," Alexandre grinned alluringly, though the attraction didn't seem to linger anymore. Blair nodded lightly, pursing her lips before advancing towards the en suite door.

* * *

"Chuck!" she hissed through gritted teeth, waiting for the door to close before she addressed the smirking American. Chuck was leaning against the marble legged bathtub, a disdainful expression marring his face.

"What?" he replied innocently. Blair scowled.

"You know what. Alexandre can't know you're here."

"Jackass can know if I want him to," he responded. "Or was it Alexandre, you said? The names are so similar sounding."

"Chuck," Blair warned, drawing out her words in an attempt to salvage his attention. "Be. Quiet."

He arched an eyebrow, not lowering it until the bathroom door had shut, plunging him into solitude once more.

* * *

"So, Blair, are you ready?" Alexandre spoke before Blair had time to close the handle of the bathroom door.

"For what?"

"Our trip, of course," he replied bluntly. "To Champ de Mars? The gardens?"

"Oh," Blair bit her lip, not wanting to turn the charming Frenchman down but not wanting to leave the safety of the hotel suite's chambers. "I'm not sure, Alexandre."

The Gallic's eyes darkened; his placid expression ebbing. Her reaction was not what he was hoping for.

"Blair, come on," he tried again.

"Look, Alexandre, you're a really lovely person, but I'm not sure I-"

"Blair," he advanced on the petite brunette, his poise and persona suddenly rendering Blair to terror. "Come on."

"No," she withdrew, recoiling against the chaise lounge that he had been resting against just minutes ago. "I'm not feeling great, Alexandre. I don't want to...go."

"Are you sure, Blair? I am not convinced. I think deep at heart, you would love such a luxury. Just you and me...alone..."

He grinned. She could feel his breath on her skin, educing pimples. Seeing a new side of Alexandre both staggered her and scared her at the same time. Suddenly his charming personality seemed so false. She should have known this was a joke, all along. She shouldn't have gone trusting the first man that spoke to her. God, _Chuck was right_.

"Blair." He was inches from her. He leant in and pecked her cheek lightly, his teeth grazing the soft skin. Blair's breath caught at the sensation of his lips on hers.

Just as quickly as he had pressed his mouth to her face, his hands reached for her lips, his fingers burning trails on her mouth.

"Get off," she cried into his hand and, to her horror, her words were muted by his calloused hands. Manoeuvring and manipulating her arms till they were behind her back, he pushed her downwards, onto the fabric of the ivory chaise lounge, burying her in the material. She suddenly felt like she was suffocating.

_Goddamnit it Chuck_, she thought, as if her thoughts alone could send him to her rescue. But Alexandre was too stealthy. His ability to quiet her and her actions was outstanding.

"Say a word," he growled, his voice barely audible under the vehemence and immorality of his words, "and I'll do something that little friend of yours won't like very much."

He withdrew something from inside his trenchcoat, Blair's heart skipping a beat as the glint of silver caught her eye. But she didn't move or make a sound - the panic, the silence and his hands immobilized her. Rendered her speechless. She could do nothing more than hope. Hope that Chuck Bass, the last person on Earth she expected would do the job, would be her knight in shining armour.

* * *

Hearing the hotel suite door close, Chuck Bass reopened the en suite door and search the vacuous, empty lounge for any traces of the zealous brunette. There were none.

"Waldorf?" Still, there was no response. No familiar voice that once upon a time, he would have awoken to in the morning. But those days were over and they had bigger issues now. If that Alexandre asshole had hurt her, he swore he would beat him to a pulp. Or a least try. But then again, she may have just left to go to that goddamn Paris park Frenchie had been prattling on about. He had heard the whole banter through and through from his marble hideaway. Still, he would attempt to punch the face in of that moron even if they had just gone off on a happy little day trip to that Mars Garden, or whatever. He closed the door of the integral bathroom. Still, there was no sign of any other living beings in the silent and apparently, abandoned suite. Only the pigeons that scaled the Paris sky outside showed any sign of respiratory. It was just him and the pigeons.

"Blair?"

She was no where to be seen.

* * *

**AN: **Thank you SO much for the reviews, as always. 45 reviews for just four chapters, is, like, a record for me! :D SO THANKS AGAIN! But I'd like to thank all who let me know about how the language skills were going (see start of chapters). It's very reassuring! Hope you like the chapter - is it too dark for a family fic? Honestly, once the drama ebbs away, it'll be just B & C and that kiddiewink of theirs! ;) Please let me know what you think!

**REVIEWS KEEP ME MOTIVATED :)**

_Slaying the Dreamer x_

Oh, and the Japanese means 'find me', or translates to 'i searched' in English. Same thing really; just reads differently in English.


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